


White in My Eyes

by helloearthlings



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Modern Era, Past Child Abuse, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 13:10:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11624211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: “Why are you here?” Arthur said, and Merlin felt a surge of pain at how dead and lifeless his voice sounded, like their ten years of friendship was nothing in the face of…whatever this was.“I was worried,” Merlin said after a moment, not wanting to push too far, too deep, not yet. “I…I saw the news right after it broke. I went to your apartment first – then the office, then the studio – couldn’t find you anywhere. Ellie said she saw you leave the studio in a rush. I knew you’d try to leave town, get away from anyone…anyone who’d recognize you.”





	White in My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> A bit heavy, subject-wise, but something I've had a few ideas bouncing around for for a while now, because Uther is [singing] the woooorst. And then I had this image of a crappy hotel room, and desperately wanted to write something with that setting, so I combined the two to create this. Warnings for mentions of past child abuse - no explicit details. 
> 
> Still, if you're looking for some h/c, this is the place to find it. Hope you enjoy!

_Knock._

_Knock knock._

_Knock knock knock knock knock knock –_

Arthur’s face appeared in the sliver in the doorway, only his eye and part of his nose visible, his mouth obscured by the chain that kept the door still mostly closed. Merlin stared at him, not wanting to make the first move and spook him.

“It’s you,” Arthur said in a flat voice, completely monotone, but one almost of expectation, like he’d just been waiting for Merlin to show up.

“Can I come in?” Merlin said quietly, trying to convey through tone alone that he wasn’t going to push and prod or do anything that Arthur wasn’t comfortable with.

The door shut, Arthur disappearing from view, and a quick flash of adrenaline and disappointment and bone-aching sadness flooded through Merlin. It was, however, cut short with the scraping of metal and the door opening.

Arthur, face haggard and eyes rimmed with red, stared at him for a moment before turning around and walking further into the hotel room.

Merlin took that as a cue to follow, shutting the door carefully behind him.

“You could’ve picked a nicer place,” Merlin noted, surveying the room, trying to make Arthur feel better with some familiar banter. The hotel Arthur had chosen to hide in was off the beaten path, a three hour drive from London, only a dull sign outside flickering its existence to the outside world. The room was a grimy yellow color, the lights buzzing just slightly overhead, the TV giving off a similar buzzing noise as a commercial played, and the floor looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since the late 80s.

The bed creaked under Arthur’s weight as he turned to give Merlin a look that Merlin thought, with more energy, might have been a glare. But right now, the look in his eye was more vacant than anything.

“Trying to avoid…people,” Arthur said gruffly, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Including you. So how’d you find me?”

Merlin shrugged modestly. “It’s you. I knew you’d want to leave the city, I knew which road you’d take to do it, I knew you wouldn’t have ventured too far off the main roads in case your GPS lost connection and God forbid you use a map. I’ve been taking every exit for a couple hours and driving around looking for your car in hotel parking lots. Once I found this one, I bribed the clerk to tell me which room was yours, which worked because this place is a shithole.”

Merlin tried to smile genially, like he was making a joke, but it fell flat. Arthur grimaced up at him, his lips raw-looking. He’d been biting them again. A bad habit from back when they first knew each other that Merlin thought he’d outgrown years ago.

“Okay, that’s how you got here – _why_ are you here?” Arthur said, and Merlin felt a surge of pain at how dead and lifeless his voice sounded, like their ten years of friendship was nothing in the face of…whatever this was.

“I was worried,” Merlin said after a moment, not wanting to push too far, too deep, not yet. “I…I saw the news right after it broke. I went to your apartment first – then the office, then the studio – couldn’t find you anywhere. Ellie said she saw you leave the studio in a rush...I knew you’d try to leave town, get away from anyone…anyone who’d recognize you.”

“Obviously working out brilliantly so far,” Arthur said with a tetchy roll of his eyes, but Merlin almost smiled, because at least this was emotion, even if it was annoyance. But Arthur conveyed many other emotions when he was trying to be annoyed, so it was at least a start.

“Can I sit?” Merlin offered, gesturing toward the open spot next to Arthur on the bed, wanting to put them on equal ground, not wanting Arthur to feel like this was an interrogation. Arthur stared at the empty space for a moment before nodding.

Merlin hesitantly crossed the room to lower himself onto the bed, doing his best not to make eye contact with Arthur. He didn’t know what would make Arthur jump up and leave, but knew that Arthur, always hesitant when it came to emotional conversation, would be extremely skittish. And with good reason.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, fingers itching, desiring nothing more than to reach out and touch Arthur but he couldn’t scare him, couldn’t drive him away like that in his most vulnerable hour. “I wish you would have…would have told me, but I understand why you didn’t. I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that and I’d do anything to change it.”

Merlin had rehearsed a thousand times on his drive up what he’d say to Arthur, the comfort he’d give him, the reassurances that what happened wasn’t his fault, that Merlin didn’t think any differently of him, that they were still –

He couldn’t say all of it, though, and he couldn’t do what he so desperately wished, to pull Arthur close to him and never let go.

Arthur didn’t reply with words, but made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like acknowledgement, or perhaps even appreciation, but Merlin wasn’t going to ask what it was, and he wasn’t going to speak next.

They sat in silence, both half-watching a dog food commercial with an annoyingly catchy jingle Merlin would have gotten stuck in his head any other day of the year, but not today, his head too full, too overwhelmed for anything else.

The commercial faded out and Mithian Leary, one of the most prominent journalists in London, appeared one on side of the screen, and, with a jolt, Merlin saw that a small picture of a bedraggled Uther Pendragon appeared in the upper right hand corner.

Merlin didn’t even think, eyes zeroing in on the remote, lunging for it as it sat unwittingly on the bedside cabinet, but not before Mithian’s voice, scratchy and buzzing with the lack of quality from the television set said:

“ _And in breaking news, new information regarding the Pendragon family has leaked. Sources close to the family say that Uther Pendragon, a staple of our Parliament for the past 30 years, repeatedly beat his son Arthur as a child. Now 28, neither Arthur Pendragon nor any other source reported these incidents in their duration. However, sources such as Agravaine and Tristan du Bois, Pendragon’s in-laws, and Annis Carleon, his business associate, have finally let out the information in the hope of derailing Pendragon’s political career. It is unclear why they waited until this point, but what is clear is that Uther Pendragon’s career is in hot water.”_

At some point, Merlin had frozen, remote lax in his hand, anger and hate burning up his insides at the idea of Uther being so heinous and pitiful. These emotions were quickly overridden by a steely resolve to never let Uther anywhere near Arthur ever again.

He flicked off the TV.

Arthur sat, facing the opposite wall, completely still.

Merlin shakily walked toward him, hesitating slightly before finally putting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. He let out a shuddering breath. Arthur didn’t move.

“I’ve always hated him,” Merlin said a bit breathlessly, squeezing the folds of Arthur’s t-shirt instead of his shoulder like he wanted to. “I just didn’t know…what a monster he really was.”

“I knew you hated him from the moment you told him to fuck off the first time you met him. When he called our show outdated garbage.”

“I remember,” Merlin said, a ghost of a smile on his lips at the memory. Though he and Arthur had been best friends through uni, he hadn’t met Uther until he and Arthur started their radio show and Uther decided that such a career wasn’t fit for his son, bursting into their studio with rage in his eyes and derogatory words on his tongue. Merlin had, quite calmly in his opinion, had Uther thrown out.

“I…If I would have told anyone, it would have been you,” Arthur said quietly, painfully, the identification of this great unnamed thing heavy on his mouth, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his words around it properly.

“Why didn’t you?” Merlin asked, taking his hand away from Arthur’s shoulder so that he could resume sitting down next to him. They still did not look at each other, nor did Merlin want them to, the words too much for their eyes to do any talking right now. “Tell anyone, I mean. Back then. Now. Whenever.”

“I…” Merlin could hear the swallow in Arthur’s throat. “I didn’t want anyone to look at me and just see…just see _that_. Because it would be all they would ever see. All they _will_ ever see, now.”

Merlin almost turned to look at him, to make Arthur look in his eye so he would know that Merlin was serious when he promised “You are not so unremarkable that everything you’ve ever done is going to be overshadowed by this. By him. You’ve already stepped out of his legacy – you’ve made a career out of doing liberal comedy with me, the person he hates most in the world. This isn’t going to change…anything. Okay?”

Arthur shook his head, his eyes downcast so that Merlin couldn’t see them even if he tried. “You can’t know that.”

“I know…” Merlin’s hands shook as he breathed out, unsure of how this would go, knowing that their ten-year-friendship could get through this but not knowing how long that would take, how difficult it would be to get Arthur back to his ordinary self, his arrogant, pompous, supercilious, annoying, _wonderful_ self. “I know that it’s not going to change _us._ You’re still the same person you always were – me knowing about this isn’t going to change how I…how I see you. I don’t look at you and see a child who – who had _that_ done to him. I see Arthur, who had to overcome a bunch of awful shit to become Arthur, and I’m so glad he did so that…so that I could know him.”

Merlin didn’t realize that there were tears falling onto his lap until he stopped talking. He wasn’t sure if Arthur realized it either until Arthur slowly moved a hand to sit on top of Merlin’s knee.

Merlin let out a shuddering breath of relief.

“Thank you,” Arthur said, and Merlin could almost hear tears in his voice as well, which made him want to cry more – ten years he’d known Arthur, and he could count on one hand the number of times Arthur had let him see him cry.

Finally, Arthur looked over at him, the hints of a smile on his face, though his eyes were wet, and Merlin desperately wanted to wipe those tears away, but knew that was too much.

A hug, however, wasn’t, and without giving himself time to overthink it, Merlin wrapped one arm around Arthur’s waist, pulling him in so that their cheeks nearly touched.

He didn’t let the hug go on too long – Arthur was uncomfortable with affectionate contact – but he squeezed tightly while it lasted.

“I’m your friend,” Merlin muttered to Arthur’s shoulder. “That’s never going to change. We’re stuck with each other forever, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed, and Merlin was surprised when Arthur held onto him tighter, the air being squeezed out of him as Arthur buried his head in the crook of Merlin’s neck.

“Are you okay?” Merlin asked, choked, as Arthur pulled away.

Arthur shook his head a little helplessly. “No. Not really.”

Arthur had always been the type to never admit to any kind of weakness, so this admission, given so freely and unashamedly, made Merlin feel worse at the idea that his Arthur was having his world shaken so much, and yet better at the idea that at least Arthur was being open with him.

Merlin gave him a watery smile. “Let’s watch some crap TV, yeah? It’ll fit the décor in this crap hotel room.”

Arthur laughed a little, and that was a good sign. Merlin flicked the TV on and quickly bypassed the news station, instead opting for what looked like a rerun of A Bit of Frye and Laurie.

“Hey, it’s another British comedy duo,” Merlin nudged Arthur lightly. “Probably a little funnier than us, unfortunately.”

“We’re pretty funny,” Arthur argued, a light smile on his lips. Merlin pushed himself back on the bed – it didn’t take a lot of effort, the bed too small, his feet hanging off the edge even when his back was against the headboard. Arthur, thankfully followed his lead.

They sat in silence, letting the television do the talking for them, neither of them laughing much, but smiling at the right moments.

Merlin chanced a couple of glances at Arthur, whose face was still ashen but looking slightly less miserable. Merlin’s heart beat faster. There were still so many things left to say, and even thought Merlin knew that all of them couldn’t possibly be said, there was certain things that he had to get off his chest tonight or he never would.

He didn’t have the chance to pluck up the courage to speak, however, because Arthur beat him to it.

“I don’t know how I’m going to go back,” Arthur said quietly, and Merlin quickly turned the volume down on the television, the voices a steady hum in the background. “Deal with…with everything again. The reporters. Our fans. Our friends. My father…I just want to stay out here in obscurity.”

Merlin was quiet for a moment before he said “It’s all going to blow over eventually – the worst of it will be the first couple weeks. It’ll start to die down soon.”

“I know,” Arthur sighed, drawing one of his knees up to his chest. “I just…I want to…I dunno. Buy a farm or something. Only have to interact with horses and chickens for a while.”

“You?” Merlin snorted with laughter. “Arthur Pendragon? Poshest boy who ever lived? On a farm?”

“Well, you’d do all the hard work,” Arthur tilted his head toward Merlin, a real smile on his face this time, one that almost made Merlin cry all over again.

“Figures,” Merlin gave himself a moment to collect himself. “Alright, I’ll indulge your farm-related fantasy in which you only ride horses and feed chickens while I do the actual, you know, _farming._ It’s kind of a requirement for being a farmer.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to be a farmer, only that I wanted to live on a farm,” Arthur argued half-heartedly, but neither one of them stopped grinning, a bit too brightly and ludicrously for such a weird conversation. “But…I guess I have to go home and…and deal with this eventually.”

“I’ll help you,” Merlin said immediately, a little too forcefully, but he needed to get this point across. “Anything I can do to make this easier, I’ll do it. We’ll take an extended vacation – go to my Mum’s. I’ll deal with the show and the fans, I’ll deal with our fans, if Uther comes within a hundred feet of you, I _will_ murder him –”

“Then you’d go to jail, and then where would I be?” Arthur said, just the faintest ghost of a smile left on his features, but he was regarding Merlin with such open affection in his eyes that Merlin couldn’t take it and had to look away.

He’d wanted Arthur to look at him like that so many times before, but not today, not like this, not at this cost.

To his extreme surprise, Arthur then leaned over and put his head on Merlin’s shoulder.

Arthur didn’t like to be vulnerable, didn’t like to be affectionate, didn’t like to be needy or wanting or – or –

Merlin leaned his head against Arthur’s, his hair tickling his nose. Merlin resisted the urge to do anything more as he said “Anything – anything at all, I’ll do for you. I just…I just want to take care of you.”

Arthur responded by putting his hand on Merlin’s knee.

Merlin held on a little tighter, reaching for the remote so that the light comedy would resume, keep them distracted, and keep Merlin from talking about anything that could never be taken back.

Silence permeated the hotel room until the end of the episode, when Merlin nudged Arthur, who had been making wheezy, snore-like sounds for the past few minutes.

“Hey,” Merlin meant to only pull Arthur’s head upright to suggest that maybe laying down to sleep might be more comfortable, but he found himself cupping Arthur’s cheek with one hand and, despite his brain telling him to move, his hand was sluggish in following the order.

“Wha’?” Arthur looked up, eyes drooping with tiredness, but he seemed to notice that Merlin’s hand wasn’t moving as well, for his eyes widened as he looked up, as if asking what was going to happen next.

Merlin’s hand finally moved, but not away from Arthur. Instead, it moved up toward his hair, his fingers brushing it aside, his palm running down Arthur’s cheek, his fingernails brushing the corner of Arthur’s eye, the curve of his nose.

“What – what are you doing?” Arthur asked a bit breathlessly, and were those nerves in his voice? Was it energy? Was it hopefulness?

“You,” Merlin said, voice shaky, not yet knowing where this sentence would take him, “You deserve to be touched…touched gently.”

Arthur wasn’t used to being touched like this, Merlin knew. Certainly not by Uther, administrator of cruel beatings, that according to Arthur’s uncle Agravaine, had bordered on sadistic. Arthur had no mother who had held him as a baby. His friends weren’t permitted this kind of affection – Merlin, who had known Arthur longest, had never been this close before. Even Arthur’s scattered girlfriends and one boyfriend had never lasted long, had never touched Arthur with the intensity that Merlin knew he could –

Without giving himself time to overthink it, Merlin pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Arthur’s mouth.

He pulled away, guilt welling up in him – he had taken advantage, this was the wrong time, he was treating Arthur differently now that he knew which was the _last_ thing Arthur wanted, he had irrevocably screwed up their friendship just like he always feared he would –

Arthur was kissing him again a moment later.

Merlin’s surprise couldn’t even last too long, the intensity of Arthur’s kisses driving them out. Arthur kissed him like he had nothing left to lose, like there was nothing in the world other than this.

Merlin started kissing back, just enough to respond, and Arthur leaned over him, pushing him back against the bed, and suddenly, his kisses turned from just intense to ferocious in their desire, teeth scraping against one another, his hands digging into Merlin’s shoulder –

“Hey, hey, stop,” Merlin reluctantly pulled away, and Arthur’s face, above his own, seemed to crumple just slightly at the rejection.

Merlin quickly sat up, pulling Arthur into a hug.

“I have to –” Merlin said into Arthur’s neck. “If this is gonna happen, I have to know that it’s not just tonight. It’s not just because of – of all this. I…I won’t be able to do this without knowing…that it can happen again tomorrow. I’ve wanted this for so long – I couldn’t do it any other way.”

Arthur pulled away, a foreign look in his eye, one of complete astonishment. “You – you wanted this…before?”

“Of course,” Merlin said, a little surprised himself that Arthur had never figured it out. It wasn’t like Merlin was the most subtle person alive. “I – I just didn’t want to chance it. You’re so important to me, I – I don’t think I could ever be without you. I didn’t want to lose you because I felt one way and you didn’t.”

Arthur very nearly laughed, and Merlin was a little affronted at his seeming lack of care for their friendship. That was cleared up when Arthur said “I never thought you’d – you’d want someone like me. You’re so…so dynamic, and vibrant, and…exciting, and I’m the boy whose personality was beat out of him.”

“Don’t say that,” Merlin choked, chest aching at Arthur’s seemingly objective, bitter voice, as if what he was saying was actually true. “You have… _so_ much, Arthur. More than I could ever…you’re the only…”

Merlin couldn’t help himself, he reached over and pulled Arthur back into him again, hand running up and down the length of his back, trying to convey with his touch _you are so much more than what he did to you. So much more than what the world says you are._

Merlin realized a few moments later that he was cradling Arthur’s head, running his hands through his hair and whispering those words out loud. He also realized that Arthur was smiling at him.

“Hey,” Arthur reached up to pull Merlin’s hands away. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.”

He had to say it a few more times for it to really sink in, but Merlin finally nodded, pulling away.

“Let’s…turn off these gross, noisy lights,” Arthur said, his lips twitching, “and go to sleep, because…because we have to drive back to London tomorrow.”

“We can stay away if you need –” Merlin started, but Arthur interrupted.

“No, I…I need to get it over with.” He smiled a little sadly. “No farmhouse right now.”

“Our retirement plan,” Merlin said, lips twitching. “When we’re no longer funny or politically relevant anymore.”

“Mocking people is always politically relevant,” Arthur said with a grin that quickly softened. “I…retirement…do you really think….”

_Will you really stay that long?_

The unspoken question hung in the air.

“I’ll be here as long as you let me,” Merlin said simply and truthfully. “Or as long as it takes for me to murder Uther, but personally, I think I have cause. You can come visit me in jail.”

Arthur let a breath out of his nose, a tetchy look on his face that clearly said he didn’t think Merlin was funny. Merlin, however, was hardly joking about this. “He’s never getting reelection after this – it’s revenge enough. Agravaine and Annis will be thrilled.”

“It’s a shitty thing to do, exposing that after all these years,” Merlin said bitterly, a twist of anger in his gut. “They should have said something when it could have still helped you.”

Arthur shrugged, a grimace on his face. “They’re in politics. They save up secrets to stab someone at the most opportune time. Just happened to be now. Good thing we already make fun of them for a living. Don’t go adding people to your kill list, yeah? I don’t want you in jail – I’m holding you to a farmhouse someday.”

“A farmhouse,” Merlin took Arthur’s hand in his own and squeezed. “I promise.”


End file.
